Smoke and Mirrors
by SUPERJAILed
Summary: L is caught doing something naughty. Warning: S&M, yaoi Light/L , and sexual themes!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: OK, this is a little idea that popped into my head one day, begging to be written for the sake of all those out there who enjoy S&M. So, you're welcome, folks.

**Warning:** This story includes **self-mutilation**, **sexual themes**, and **yaoi**. If you are weak-minded/ and or are not into those things, **do not read**!

* * *

The room was filled with an uncomforting silence. The large space surrounding L had been emptied of people, those being the entire task force. He couldn't understand why they all wanted to leave, and for so long. And, not that L cared, but, he realized they weren't just simply going out for a smoke, or to get fresh air… they wanted to get as far away from L as possible. But it all somehow made sense, seeing as L was only the _definition_ of a creeper, but a _sexy_ one at that. The idea pleased him. He knew that. That last thought entered L's mind like it was the popped, liquidy remains of a bubble that'd been given a second chance and thus sprung into life. He smirked. The idea of being alone for a while wasn't that bad, in fact, L liked it. There was only one way to celebrate.

Cake.

He glanced down in front of the couch he was crouched upon to behold the miracle he'd forgotten was there. It rested delicately on a porcelain dish with a small silver spoon to match. L tried not to giggle as he reached for it hastily. _Here it comes… here it comes… _

(Shatter)

L had somehow managed to slide the treat off of the coffee table and onto the hardwood floor. He stared awe-struck at the dead and broken remains of what was to be the best part of his day; week, maybe. In anguish, he slid himself off of the couch and down next to the splattered cake, eyes wide with terror. _How could I?!_ With a sigh, he began picking up the cake's porcelain skeleton, placing its bones in his palm.

He felt a small prick. Quickly averting his forlorn gaze to his hand, he witnessed a single drop of blood run down his pale wrist. The only strange thing was, he didn't feel the slightest bit of pain.

"That's odd…" he mumbled, wiping the blood with his finger. Maybe his hand had gone numb? He poked it with the same finger. Nope.

He placed his bleeding palm in his mouth, sucking on the salty liquid it produced. Out of curiosity, he picked up another piece of the broken plate with the opposite hand. Gently, he poked his bleeding palm. _Another prick, but no pain_. He continued pressing the broken plate into his pale skin, creating a dent. Without realizing it, he'd cut himself deeper than the first time and began to stare, amazed at the scene unfolding.

If L wasn't mistaken, he was almost certain that it felt… well… _good_. He dared to try it again, once more pressing the remains of the plate into his palm. This time, the cut was deeper, and formed a lush crimson bubble that when finally released gave L a hard shiver down his spine. He could not, for the life of him, understand why he liked doing this so much. Was he dreaming? Were his nerves dead in that hand? He wondered, long and hard about this matter. Why was this happening now?

Curiosity came flooding into him. He needed to explore this matter further. He couldn't remember the last time he had been cut like that… or as bad. Had this strange behavior been developed, he would have certainly noticed it. There was no doubt about that. Without thinking, he decided to take his experimentation to the next level.

Reaching into Aizawa's coat pocket, which he'd left sprawled over one of the cushioned chairs, he retrieved a simple red lighter. L knew the man was a smoker.

Flipping open the metal contraption, he'd made a small, luminous flame. He stared, wide-eyed at the spectacle.

He moved the lighter next to his already wounded hand. Nerves crept up on him, forcing him to start shaking as small drop of perspiration snaked down his temple. All his fingers curled except for his lone, shaky, index. The flame slowly met with the subject, L continuing to stare, anxiousness controlling him. As the feeling of the fire on his skin began to settle, L panicked slightly. What was he going to feel?

Then, as beautifully slow as a drop of color in still water, the _feeling _came. It wasn't bad; it wasn't painful. It was stimulating. It was exciting. It was _arousing._

L couldn't bring himself to move the lighter. He wanted more. He needed more. Although those thoughts seemed exhilarating, he realized that if he continued, he could do some serious damage.

He finally pried it away from his finger, on which a small, red blister had formed. It throbbed with the same feeling he felt before. L felt blood rise to his cheeks. He felt as if he was pleasuring him self but in a _different _way. But he knew what it meant. He was a masochist, and it felt amazing. He had to have more.

Shoving the lighter back into the coat pocket, he searched the room for more instruments of torture. He rummaged through drawers, cabinets and shelves. He even got down on his knees and peeked under the furniture. Miraculously, he found them: a small, shiny pair of scissors. They were beautiful.

He plopped back onto his same sunken spot on the couch, not taking his tired eyes off the scissors. Without hesitation, he brought them up to the same bloodied palm as before, pressing one of the tips into his flesh. This time, he made a straight line with the metal blade, causing small beads of blood to rise above the skin. He tried to fight back his short, uneven breaths, but he just couldn't resist giving into every emotion.

His cheeks flushed with red hot warmth as the helpless nerves in his hand sent a feeling of ecstasy down his arm and throughout the rest of his body. His soft eyelids fluttered closed and tensed up at the sensation.

He was torturing himself, and he loved it.

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Light sauntered down the hotel's dimly lit hallway. He had been feeling irritable beforehand, yet the rage still lingered inside him. He felt the incessant urge to kick something, or just hit something… _anything_, violently. He knew he had this _issue, _this _sadist issue_… he just wasn't going to tell anyone. He knew if he lashed out at times (a normal occurrence in Light's private life) in front of them, the suspicion would only grow. As he reached the door, he took a moment to calm himself. The cold doorknob came as a shocking reminder that he was returning to headquarters.

Walking in with the weight of his problems upon him was easy compared to what he saw. There was Ryuzaki… L… _the _L… hunched over on the floor… cutting himself. Light was speechless.

L turned suddenly, dropping the scissors onto the floor, breaking the awkward silence. "Light… I… It's…" L spouted nervously, clutching his wounded hand.

Light couldn't believe what he was seeing. A broken dish… scissors… Ryuzaki clutching a bleeding hand… _what the fuck?_

"What the hell?!" He blurted out. "Wha-what…"

L, within a period of about 5 or so seconds, felt like if he was anymore excruciatingly nervous, he would explode. Not that he would have minded. "I… I…" he kept on stuttering.

The younger of the two sprang into action, rushing to L's side, removing the injured hand from his clutch. As he thoroughly inspected it, the situation grew stranger.

"You cut yourself? With a broken dish…" he looked around on the floor. "… scissors… and you even burnt your finger?!" Light couldn't help but _not_ be worried, even though he masked this feeling with concern. He enjoyed it when other people were hurt, after all.

"Well… I… the cake fell, so I tried to-" The onyx-haired man could only say so much before the other interrupted him.

Light's mouth twisted into a cruel smirk. He glanced at the bloody hand, and back at L again. He realized it.

"You're a _masochist_, aren't you, Ryuzaki?" He asked, a certain gleam in his amber eyes.

L blushed wildly, avoiding eye contact with Light. Light knew the other wanted to hide it, but it was just too obvious for him to see past. _Too obvious for anyone._

"You _enjoy_ this." He continued, smiling now. "You sick bastard…"

As he was speaking, he retrieved the scissors without L's notice. As Light's grip on L's hand grew stronger, the older man's breaths grew heavier and louder. Light, of course, was doing it intentionally, just to watch the other man squirm and fuel his own twisted pleasure. He then revealed the scissors to L, opening them sharply. He placed the edge of the blade next to where the previous cut had been. L was terrified. Terrified that Light would take it too far.

Then, Light, with heart-pounding speed, sliced L's palm. The cut wasn't deep (_enough_, from Light's point of view), but just enough to frighten him.

L's reaction was anything but ordinary. A series of short, hard breaths were followed by a soft moan, causing L to cover his mouth in embarrassment. He snatched his hand back almost immediately.

"Why did you do that?!" He spoke, pretending to be mad. The blood from his hand now stained his shirt sleeve.

Light, continuing with his evil plan, took the scissors into his mouth and licked the blood clean off. His eyes pierced L's, the masochist's heart beating furiously in reaction.

"Because…" he said, removing the metal object. "I enjoy it."

A million thoughts were pouring into L's mind. Light was a sadist… he was a sick freak… he _enjoyed _watching this. The chance of Light actually being Kira had risen dramatically. Only someone with this mindset could kill without the slightest taste of remorse. He wanted to _hurt L_.

Who was he kidding? He wanted it just as much as Light did.

_Perfect… _Light thought, sick as usual.

L was shocked and terrified, not only at Light's actions, but at himself for giving into the temptation. The sides of his face were caked with the salty residue of his sweat. He breathed each breath with nervousness. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost. L knew what Light was doing, he was trying to get him to admit it… through torture.

"Say it." Light snapped.

L's hand was shaking. "Say what?" he responded, speaking through pure instinct.

Light leaned towards L almost closing the distance between them.

"_Say that you want it._" He whispered.

He grasped L's bloody hand once more, and pressed the tip of the scissors' blade into one of the open wounds.

"Ah…!" The older man winced as he felt the pressure. The slight sting of the blade quickly turned into the arousing drug he had learned to love.

"_Say it._" Light whispered into the other man's ear, cutting him deeper with the scissors.

"Ahh!" L moaned, shutting his eyes tight, and turning his face away from the scene. "I…"

Light continued the same business with the blade, as he hungrily watched L fill with pleasure. L grabbed Light's shirt with his good hand.

"I want it." He said.

He left his mouth hanging ever so open on those three simple words. _What have I done?!_

Light's daring smirk widened. He removed the scissors from against L's palm and threw him upon the couch. The elder's back arched upon contact, resulting in a very sexual position. He didn't move. He couldn't move. He needed to know what this felt like.

Without a word, Light slowly leaned over L, hovering, breathing onto his cold skin. No words needed to be said; Light knew L was dying for this. He knew, even now, there was no way he could stop.

L's lip trembled upon receiving an icy glare from the man atop him. His eyes shut closed for a moment, then sprang open, only to be pushed down again by his naked brow.

L remembered this moment as suspended in time, as if they were hanging by a thread, the distance between them blocked off by some unseen force. The re-exposure of his sense of sight severed the ever-tightening tension.

"What are you going to do…?" L mumbled weakly. He shivered, watching Light lift his head so that his intense glare could be seen.

No reply was needed to express the details of the actions about to unfold. Light brought his index finger up to the older one's mouth.

"I always thought you were so cute… it's too bad I have to destroy that image." He said, gently toying with his lip. He pulled on it, pinching it, before letting go.

L was none but utterly surprised when Light removed his finger, and replaced it with his own lips. _Is he kissing me? Why?_ He thought. Light realized this meant the thought of a romantic interaction between the two of them, but he didn't care. L didn't know what he was planning, so his sly move would be justified.

He nibbled on the tender skin. He licked it; he sucked on it, all with a gentleness he rarely expressed. L's heart was pumping rapidly, churning up the blood that would rise to his head, and color his cheeks with lust. His eyes fluttered closed as his last relaxed breath escaped him and brought warmth upon Light's lips.

The gleam in Light's eyes flashed again, as he smirked, a smirk which L could feel.

Light bit down intensely, cutting L's lip deeper than it's ever been cut.

"Ahh!!" L yelped, turning his head away from Light. He touched his lip, feeling the blood that had been freed. Sucking on it like a child, he was in ecstasy.

After a moment, Light spoke softly. "You love it." He sneered.

"Stop…" L stopped for a short breath. He fought his urge to taste his own blood back before turning to look at Light.

L was a great liar, but Light was better. Light saw right through the deceit. He could see all the emotions the other had inside him. Light was being taken over by his sadist feelings.

Light reached both of his hands under L's bloodstained shirt and lifted it, until his hands reached L's broad shoulders. He heard a gasp escape L's lips as the cold air raced through him.

"L…" Light whispered menacingly, pressing each of his outstretched fingers into L's skin. He pressed deeper, and deeper, until his nails were digging into him.

L grabbed Lights wrists, squeezing them, trying to pry them off his body. He shut his eyes tight, mustering up the strength to stop him, but his efforts were useless. The pain of Light's nails pleased him; however, his unwinding disguise was keeping his dignity in at least a little control. He felt the need to scream, to moan, to beg for more, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. It was between giving into temptation and showing Light his weakness, even though he was over ninety percent certain that Light was Kira, or fighting back for the cause of justice.

With what felt like more force than he could ever exert again in his life, he hurled Light Yagami dramatically into the open air, causing him to collide, full-weight, onto the wooden coffee table, splitting it in half. The sound shattered the echoing silence that enveloped them.

Light lay still for a few seconds, just enough for the other to scramble away from the couch. He saw Light's body turn towards him, stiff, and vengeful. "L…" he breathed. His eyes, full of anger, met with L's, almost sending him into a state of shock.

_This is bad._ L knew he couldn't give in, but this was quite a setback.

"L!" Light shouted. "COME BACK HERE!"

L backed away, hunched over, clutching his injured hand, his sugar-fueled heart about to rip out of his chest.

"No…!" L whispered to himself. Secretly, he wanted Light to just catch him.

As Light stormed closer to L, he cornered him against a wall, overpowering him with his presence.

"Wait!" L spouted, trying to push him back with his hands, including the bad one, which left a blood smear on Light's shirt. "Stop…!"

Light was too strong to be held back, and too sly to let L notice that he picked up the pair of scissors on the way over.

He was angry; too angry.

"I'm gonna make you bleed, L…" He hissed.

Painfully straightening L's back against the wall, he grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled it down to reveal his collarbone. The pale, soft skin tempted him in more ways than one. He flung the scissors open, holding up one of the blades.

The sweet painful sensation L was about to feel enticed him. He licked his cut lip, waiting for it.

Light pressed the tip of the blade into L's flesh near his shoulder, and made a long yet shallow cut to the other side of the bone.

"Fuck!" L shouted, mistakenly, his eyes shut tight with pleasure. He immediately shot them open only to see Light's cruel smirk once again. He began to laugh.

"Mhmhm… hahaha! I knew it…" he raised an eyebrow.

L didn't know how to respond. His eyes were half shut, his mouth ajar, and his breaths short. As a new wave of blood rushed to his face, he turned his head away from Light, and discontinued his efforts to push the other man back. He'd given up.

"Mmm…" He moaned, as a drop of blood meandered down his collar. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor.

"Light…" He said, reaching for his shirt. "I can't take it."

Light lowered himself to the floor, eye to eye with L. He gripped the scissors with intensity. Just the sight of L in this condition made his pants tighten.

"Don't stop…" he continued.

The younger of the two was in definite ecstasy. He wanted this so bad; he needed it. To take out his rage on another was so pleasurable to him, especially since that person was indeed a masochist. With awe-inspiring glory, he slowly raised the silver scissors into the air above L.

Click went the door as it creaked open, allowing Aizawa, Matsuda, Mogi, and Ide to pass through it. As soon as they entered the room, they were quick to spot the two against the wall.

Collective gasps were heard.

"He- he's attacking Ryuzaki!" Matsuda cried.

Without a moment of hesitation, Aizawa whipped out his gun, pointing it directly at Light as he approached him.

"Freeze, Light!" He shouted.

Light was in shock. He didn't know how to explain himself. Everyone had seen his sadistic ways and thought he was trying to murder L, which only meant one thing. He was Kira.

Before he could say a word, Aizawa had him cuffed with the help of the other task force members. Light tried to struggle his way free.

"Get off me!" He snapped, kicking and thrashing.

They bombarded him, forcing him to the couch so they could bend him over to stop his battering.

"Explain yourself!" Aizawa shouted, pointing the gun directly at Light's head.

"ENOUGH!" L cried. "Let him go!"

The others were speechless. They were utterly confused, but obeyed L's demands.

They removed the metal handcuffs from Light's wrists, as he quickly dismissed himself from the embarrassing position. He scowled at the rest of the task force.

"But, Ryuzaki, he was about to attack you. We were just defending you, for your own safety!" Matsuda explained.

L was angered. He was just about to get what he really wanted and they ruined it.

"All of you, back to work. Now."

They quietly accepted his demand, shuffling back to their duties. Aizawa shot Light a nasty look, and vice-versa.

Light, rubbing his wrists, glanced over at L.

"Yagami-kun." L spoke.

He listened.

"Let's take this to the bedroom."

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In the process of writing a second chapter. Suggestions welcome. :D


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This is chapter two of this totes awesome story, so enjoy perverts. Lol, just kidding.

L's beginning to be OOC you guys… just sayin'. And, yes, the hotel is luxurious, it has stairs and hallways!

And just to be safe: **This story includes mature and sexual themes! **

**WARNING: S&M and Yaoi! BEWARE!!**

Light stumbled towards the bedroom, his teeth grit, and high off of the drug of pure pleasure and the knowledge of what he was doing. His dull fingernails dug into L's pale wrist as he swiftly yanked him up the stairs and through the hallway. With each menacingly painful tug, L nearly broke his ankle.

The door burst open as the brunet delivered a perfect kick. He led L to the foot of the bed and quickly jerked him around. He grabbed the detective's other wrist and tightened his grip around both. Jerking him closer, Light stared at the man before him.

L's dark, gleaming eyes, were mysterious and seemed as if he hadn't slept for days. His onyx colored hair was windswept over his delicate, untouched face. _That would change soon. _L had a certain childlike aspect, one which could be taken advantage of. Anyone could say L was sexy, or hot… or _attractive_. Good looks weren't the only thing Light was going crazy after. It was the pleasure that drove him wild, insane; out of his mind. His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head as he imagined the possibilities.

L moaned softly as the killer pulled him close. He curiously sucked on his bleeding lip, swallowing the salty liquid.

Light couldn't take it anymore. L was looking at him so innocently. He needed this badly, and he wasn't surer about anything in his life. With one swift motion, he pushed L up to the bed, and shoved him over the edge.

With a quiet thud, L landed, struggling to get towards the top of the bed. Light pounced like a cougar onto L, straddling him.

"Let's get this off." He purred into L's ear, reaching for his bloodstained shirt.

As more and more of L's flesh was exposed, Light had another realization. He was incredibly attracted to L. But more importantly, he wanted to fuck the living daylights out of him. This didn't come as a surprise, although he wasn't sure if that's what L wanted.

"Nnn… Light…" L moaned once more, laying back.

This made Light so incredibly horny… to the point were he would have had his way right then and there. He decided to experiment instead.

Pulling L's shirt off, he flung it across the room. He stared at L's chest. It wasn't too slim, but wasn't too muscular. It was perfect, down to every last detail. He could see the cut he'd made with the scissors previously, and it sent a shivering feeling between his legs.

His hands found support at L's hips, which were seductively swaying as the oldest arched his back. Soon, Light made his way to the other man's neck and bit down not unlike a vampire, breaking the fair skin.

"Uhhnn…" L moaned even louder, pressing Light's head into his neck, increasing the pain.

Light could hear his heart beat. It was close to ripping open his chest. His heart hadn't pounded this fast since the last time he wrote in the death note.

Light pulled away from L's neck, and basked in the glory of his masterpiece. Shiny, round, red beads formed from each tooth mark and eventually connected together. He licked away the blood, sending jolts of pleasure through L's neck. The dark-haired man gasped.

As he was attached to L's neck, Light felt accomplished as he had successfully plucked L out of his normal mindset and allowed him to fall victim to the sadist's every demand. He smiled into the other's skin, sucking the blood away.

"You fucking vampire." L moaned, grabbing a fistful of Light's hair.

The younger of the two chuckled as he broke away from L's neck. "Yesss…" he hissed, playfully. "I'm a vampire… and I want you."

L smiled and turned his head, exposing the bite mark on his neck. He slid his hands along the white sheet until they met Light's.

Once he knew he could feel the other man's fingertips on his own, his face dropped, as did the nervous feeling in his chest right down to his crotch.

Light found himself staring at the other man, and thought curiously that if some kind of third party was in the room, they might have thought Light had died sitting up. Everything seemed to spiral in one direction, blinding him anywhere but the center. The moment he felt his nervous feelings disappear, a new lightheadedness came drifting up from what seemed like months before, and the single breath, riding on his teeth, froze as if he had subconsciously paused his life to bask in the vision of what lay before him.

His grip on the sheets tightened for a moment, before Light lowered himself to the point where he was hovering dangerously close over L. He could plainly see all that was L at that moment staring back at him, either realizing the strength of Light's passion and his own cunning detective intuition, or merely glazing over and tuning out. His scent, his lips, his mysterious eyes; these things were tempting. Tempting enough to the point where Light could no longer hold himself back.

His greedy mouth enveloped itself around L's, begging for entrance. He gripped the other man's shoulders, and in one swift motion, brought his thumb up to rub the fresh wound he had created, causing a forced moan to escape from L's lips.

Before L had a chance to create any type of reaction, he did nothing but hold back his tongue, until he could clear the fog from the space in his mind and create some kind of non-verbal communication with the man on top of him.

L's back, including a few of the nail marks Light had made, were slowly but surely being pressed deeper and deeper into the mattress, as if Light's intentions were to bury him in it.

What L was feeling was difficult for him to explain, let alone comprehend with all the fervent lust floating about. When he thought he could simply stimulate Light in a different way, distracting him, his mind fogged up with doubt, nervousness, and mostly denial.

The detective utilized his strong hand, placing it on Light's chest, pushing him away. Light's eyes steadied at half-closed, still ripe with sexual attachment.

"Uh…" L managed to squeak in a pathetic version of his normally calm manner. "I… uh… I don't know if…"

Light returned to sitting position, staring blatantly down at L, the powerful gleam continuing to bring color to his eyes.

That moment, L knew partially what was going to happen. He knew that Light had an uncontrollable, almost insane obsession with him. He knew that there was nothing he could do to stop that. He knew that Light got a sick, sexual pleasure from his sadist actions, and that in some completely undeniable, surprising way, he himself did too. What he didn't know was what he was going to do about it. As he pondered this, only looking at Light's body over him, his heart raced incredibly faster than the steady beat he had gotten used to, and he thought that if someone could possibly have an orgasm in their chest, that's precisely what it would feel like. Hot blood rushed straight to his head, coloring his pale cheeks.

Light removed himself from the bed, and moved straight to the bathroom adjoining the bedroom. He fumbled around his pants pocket until he found his carton of cigarettes. Only one left. Lighting it and placing it in his mouth, he looked in the mirror, vainly noticing for a moment that if he was cloned, he would probably fuck the daylights out of himself. In a fit of sadist passion, he punched the glass, leaving a spider web of cracks in the mirror.

L sat up and wiped some of the blood from his neck, letting it drip down his hand. He quickly kicked that image out of his mind when he too slipped out of the bed and approached the bathroom door.

"Light… I don't…" was all he could say before he was interrupted.

Light turned to face the other man, the cigarette held tight, shaking, between his fingers. He shut his eyes, imagining things, before opening them again to see a look on L's face that was practically asking to be molested. Light closed the gap between them with his hands, one resting softly on L's bare chest, and the one holding the cigarette loosely gripping his neck.

"No matter how hard I try, L, I can't stop seeing you with your legs spread, begging me to fuck you senseless… but it's not about what I think." He cooed into L's ear.

L breathed in segments, listening to him speak more closely than he'd ever listened, causing shockwaves of pleasure into Light's neck. L's legs were bent from the exhaustion of trying to stand while all these hormones were overpowering him.

"It's about what you think." He paused. "But there's no point in telling me, L. I can see it in you already. The thrill of it."

With those poetic words, L nearly melted into a puddle. Before he could even show how right Light really was, said man smirked, a signal. He lifted L's hand, covered in blood from his neck, and licked it clean off, enclosing each finger around his mouth, one at a time. L whimpered slightly at the contact and the tingling sensation it sent down his spine. While he was distracted, Light flicked the cigarette around and pressed the burning tip into the untouched side of L's neck, smoke rising from the wound.

That was it. That was what sent L, the great detective L, over the edge and into his own masochistic abyss. His head tilted back as his eyes nearly rolled into the back of it. A loud, somewhat held back moan erupted from his mouth.

"I know you want it, L, you don't have to prove it to me." Light whispered, his breath caressing L's earlobe.

L gripped Light's shirt, pulling him closer and somewhat removing it in the process. Light helped him by unbuttoning it.

L knew the stage had been set, and was willing to, in fact, prove to Light how much, and what, he was feeling. A single drop of his own blood trailed down the corner of Light's mouth, begging to be touched. He gently placed his hand under Light's chin, turning his head from the neck he'd been attached to. L slowly licked the blood away, tasting it once again. While their faces were so close, Light took the opportunity to regain his control and pushed L back into the wall.

He lifted one of L's legs, placing it next to his hip as he pressed deeper into L with his pelvis, showing him the erection he hadn't noticed. L gasped slightly at the pleasure he felt, and Light went for the kiss again. It was sloppy and forceful, and it seemed as though Light was trying to choke L with his tongue. L could have cared less; all he was feeling right then was the urge to let Light do whatever he wanted.

Light pulled away, grabbing L's wrist. He dashed out of the bathroom and to the bed once again, practically flinging L upon it. As Light kicked his shoes off, he didn't take his eyes off of the other man. Before joining L on the bed, he walked toward a desk in the room, in frantic search of a sharp object. As he rummaged around, he finally found it, but by the worst way. It pricked his finger, breaking the skin. Light winced at the pain, and grabbed the nail hidden in the back of the drawer.

Finally, he shuffled onto the bed, gripping the nail tight. They quickly began to kiss again, while Light pulled the detective's faded jeans off. Soon the boxers went as well, and Light gawked at the sight of an exposed L. He nearly creamed his pants. Those went as well.

As Light removed his last piece of clothing, L could feel Light's intense body heat most powerfully. The build up L felt to this point was over bearing, and became even more powerful as Light closed in on L's mouth with two of his fingers. He knew what it meant.

"Light…" he blurted out. "I'm a virgin."

L couldn't say he was scared of what it would feel like, or that it would be bad, at all. He felt as if feeling that much pleasure, being from two completely different things, was, or should be, considered a sin. Light smirked.

"And you're in your twenties?" He chuckled devilishly at the thought that that statement made no difference to him. It was the fact that L would be in so much more pain.

Without a word, L coated the other's fingers with saliva. As Light was about to enter him for the first time, he brought the nail up to L's side, inches below his armpit. He pressed it into L's clammy skin until red formed in a circle around it. L arched his back in pleasure as the nail was making a line down his side.

Light eased in one finger as he continued to make a line with the nail. L moaned and breathed heavily as Light was doing his business, so he added another. Light rubbed around, looking for the bundle of nerves; the trigger. He found it seconds later, and as he toyed with it, L gasped and shot up, staring down towards Light's hand. Light removed the nail, which was by then close to mid-thigh and threw it across the room.

Without a word, Light pushed the black-haired man back down to the sheets and positioned himself, ready to make his fantasy come true.

"What do you say?" he spoke softly, taking each of L's knees and spreading them apart. He wanted complete and utter dominance.

L looked up at him, eyes wide. "W-… what?" he squeaked.

Light slithered like a serpent up to L's ear, using his palms to keep L's legs open.

"What do you say, L?" he repeated.

L remembered what it was, and had no intentions of faking it. What he was going to say was real.

"Please, Light." He whined. "Fuck me."

Before L could close his mouth, Light thrust deep into him, causing an earsplitting shriek of bittersweet agony.

Light began rocking slowly, torturing him. He resisted L's whimpering and fumbling to press Light deeper into him. After moments of torture, L felt a surprise rush of intense pain as Light jerked forward, hitting his newly discovered sweet spot.

His heart nearly gave out from the shock and pleasure he felt coursing through his abdomen. He grabbed the back of Light's bobbing head for support, intertwining his slender fingers in the auburn hair. He squealed a muffled moan, keeping his mouth shut subconsciously.

By this point, L couldn't help but grab fistfuls of sheet to hold on to. His head turned and swayed, his mind a blur. Dizziness was settling in as Light continued to plunder him. The sadist fished his fingers through the nape of the other man's neck, gripping it tightly.

"Uhhn!" L moaned, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. If his eyes could be shut any tighter, they would collapse in on themselves.

Light didn't like that at all. He wanted L to scream. He wanted L to see who was taking his virginity. He took action.

With one deep thrust, he swiftly made his move to L's soft mouth, engulfing it with his own. His tongue darted back and forth inside, and circled it thoroughly. Light felt as if a barrier had been broken and decided to take another step.

Shifting somewhat forward on the bed, he re-positioned himself without giving Light any warning. Their bodies were hot from the activity and heat they were giving each other. A bead of sweat made its way down his collar bone, and he went for it.

He penetrated L as far as he possibly could, repeating it over and over again. Still attached to L's mouth, he felt the sound and vibrations coming from the screams trapped in L's throat. In a moment of passionate pleasure, L spread his fingers over his own stomach and pressed deep into the skin, breaking it. He couldn't bear being trapped, so he quickly pulled away from Light's greedy lips and began to scream as Light continued to move.

Light was on the verge, still clinging to L, and making contact with his neck. The older man arched his back high above the bed, like a contortionist.

L shrieked, over and over, splitting the Earth in two. The bleeding from his self-made scratches was leaking onto the sheets. What was at first plain white sheets, have now been stained with huge spots of red.

Light couldn't stop, but he had an immediate feeling of discomfort; like he wasn't doing enough damage. He quickly grabbed L by the waist and turned him around so that his chest wounds were being pressed deeper and deeper into the bed.

L didn't hesitate. He didn't stop moaning and screaming. He accepted it, and it allowed Light better access. Light threw his head back, his eyes glinting with red.

With every movement, the bed frame slammed into the side of the wall, causing cracks to appear. Neither of them noticed, nor cared for that matter.

L grabbed fistfuls of the bloody sheets, and pressed his face into the pillow. His head was spinning, and his onyx eyes were nearly sneaking a peak at the inside of it. He felt Light continue to plow and shove as the younger man's upper body fell onto L's back, their skin nearly fused together.

Although L was still possibly the most masochistic masochist in the world, he was no longer allowing Light to fuck him for pain. The pleasure cycling through his body was enough to have sex with him again.

Light felt as though he was about to come for decades, when finally, along with two loud screams, he released, and collapsed onto L's frail body.

He moved to lie alongside L, panting and breathing heavier than he'd ever breathed. His gaze met L's, and they stared at each other.

L attempted to move, but failed, when he found that most of the lower half of his body had gone numb. He squealed in frustration, as Light hatched an idea in his mind.

"Don't move." he cooed, scooting towards the foot of the bed, facing L. L looked back, knowing partly was Light was sadistically thinking.

Flipping L back onto his backside, he forcefully spread his legs apart, where he could plainly see L's biggest concern at the moment.

As Light began his business, all L could think about was a deep and dark river of pleasure. His mind was scattered with thoughts of Light, blood, and other things he could not infer until later. His head rolled around slowly, falling shortly towards his back, and he moaned with undeniable pleasure. His lips were parted, imagining they were being used.

L breathed roughly, his chest heaving in short motions, he squealed and made little indistinct noises that nearly caused Light to want to start up again. L sucked on his lower lip until he came, and a shot of adrenaline coursed through his frail body.

"The famous L tastes good." Light whispered, licking semen off of the corners of his mouth, and giving L that mischievous glare.

The detective gazed towards his lover as his eyes grew heavy. He his legs up to his chest, and chewed on his thumb.

Light toyed with his weight distribution on the mattress. He cupped the detective's cheek, rubbing on his lip with the tip of his thumb. L smiled, and turned slowly to the side.

His eyes closed slowly, and Light's hand reached onto his back, tracing circles with his fingernail.

**A/N: **Eh I didn't respond to any suggestions really, but I'll add them in another chapter. That is, if I write one. Should I?


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